Philosphy Makes Strange Bedfellows
by Old Man Panda
Summary: Tara and Willow have a discusion on reality. Well, Tara does Willow just wants some sleep or smoochies. Set during season 5.


"Philosophy Makes Strange Bedfellows"

by Panda-kun

Author's notes and disclaimers: First of all I own nothing, absolutely nothing. Well I do own things, like the nifty computer I wrote this on, but I own nothing in this story. Nope; all characters and alternate realities stated here belong to Joss (Joss is my Master now), Mutant Enemy (Grr Arg!) and Fox (boo boo stupid suits who killed Firefly). I was just the one who put those characters into this particular situation. This is for the Social Rejects Opening and Closing Line Challenge. Mine were the opening: "If you think about it, nothing really is what it seems." Closing: "I reject your reality and substitute my own." So, since a lot of the Rejects fics deal with slash and are written by very talented women (several of who know me and can hurt me me ) I decided to be a mirror. I'm writing a fem-slash couple but totally cannon. Archive with request, don't worry I'll be ecstatic if you truly want to archive this. Comments are loved flames, will be forwarded to "Darth Rosenburg" and she can deal with you. I hope you enjoy!

"If you think about it nothing is really as it seems." Tara said to Willow as they snuggled together in their bed.

Willow raised an incredulous eyebrow. "And that's why I said no philosophy reading before bed! It always leaves you all existential! Makes it hard to get quality snuggles when you get existential-y."

Tara smiled and gave her girlfriend a kiss. "Sorry Sweetie, but just look at our lives," she said softly. "None of us are as we seem."

Willow sighed. "No fair using smoochies! I thought we agreed no using smoochies as a weapon!" She tried to look mad, but failed miserably. "Okay, okay…so tell me o' wise woman who seeks to enlighten her poor, foolish girlfriend who wants to sleep instead of philosophize at 2 AM…why is nothing really as it seems?"

"Well, look at us: we have a vampire slayer, a watcher, a millennia old mystical key to the ultimate lock that was shoved into a 14-year-old girl's body by a group of monks, an ex-vengeance demon-turned-capitalist, a perfectly normal man with biggest heart on the face of the earth, and two powerful and quite attractive Wicca," She smiled at her love. "But if you look at us together at say Buffy's house, or the Bronze, who would be able to tell? We might just look like one big happy family."

"You saying we're not one?" Willow asked, propping herself up on one arm. She looked a bit worried, a natural state for her. She cared greatly about her surrogate family, especially lately. Joyce's death had hit them all hard. All of them felt it in their own ways. Even Spike.

"What's a big happy family? Is it mom and dad, two point five kids and a dog? Well…do any of us know what that truly is?" she questioned sadly. "I mean…Buffy and Dawnie come from a split home and now they've lost Joyce, Giles rebelled against his dad and became a…how did you put it, a 'ticking magical teenage rebel,' Xander's parents are just horrible, yours were just absent, and mine…" she trails off softly.

Willow quickly hugs her love. "Oh Sweetie," is all she can say. The subject of Tara's family was touchy. Willow knew the blonde Wicca loved her family even still, but Willow's thoughts of them, especially her father, were not as charitable. There were nights she lay away tying to think of new and highly unusual ways of punishing Tara's dad and brother for how they treated her. One of her favorite ones was dressing them as prisoners and making them carry signs that said, "We were bad please punish us," all around town. That or just letting Spike play with them.

Then Tara graced Willow with that smile that seemed to warm her from the inside out. It was one of the infinite reasons she fell in love with Tara, and she should know it was infinite; she'd tried to count one day. The fact she gave such great smoochies didn't hurt either.

"But that's just my point. What are we? Are we what others see us as, or are we what we think of ourselves, or an amalgam of both? Is the Tara that you see different than the Tara that Xander, or Buffy, or the Mocha chick sees? And if so, which Tara is the real Tara?"

"Tara, baby, I love you very, very much, but it's late. Remember we had the big Scooby meeting, the whole Glory thing. Brain hurts; pweeese, no more big talk. Either sleep or smoochies!" Willow practically begged.

"But doesn't it bother you? That people who see us walk together put their own reality on us? That they see us and might say, 'Those two sisters look very close'."

"Sisters?" Willow snickered.

"We're close," Tara deadpanned.

"No fair! You're making me laugh. You're just fighting dirty, Missy!" Willow decided it was time to bring out the big guns. She looked Tara right in the eye and gave her a Resolve Face. "See, the clock says its 2 AM, time for all good little witches to bed in bed, asleep or doing something that is not a philosophy discussion! Remember Sweetie, I didn't take philosophy, I took drama. Drama…you know, something fun and not as brain hurty. "

Tara smiled; she knew she had Willow on the ropes now if she was using Resolve Face. "Not until you answer my questions," she replied, responding with a weapon of her own: Puppy Dog Eyes.

"Gah! No…not the Puppy Eyes. I'm sure that's against some sort of law. Thou shalt not make puppy dog eyes at thine girlfriend past 1 AM. I'm sure it's written in stone somewhere!" Willow cried out, but she knew the battle was over. "Fine…it does…it bugs me. I'm a big powerful witch…and someone could still wound me with a few words…like 'I like my women sexy'…" she said softly, remembering Percy's cutting remarks behind her back. "So there, Miss Existential. But I like my reality the way I see it. Where I have amazing friends who have saved the world many, many, many times. Where I have a Giles to call my very own. I have a girl who is just like a kid sister to me who I love very, very much and I can send home when she gets too whiney. And best of all, I have my very own Tara. And do you know how hard it is to get your own Tara? They're back ordered to Timbuktu and back! I had to wait eighteen years for mine to come in! So I reject those other realities. Unless it's the shrimp one!" Willow said, using her last ditch attempt to finally get one of the two outcomes she wanted.

Tara blanched at the mere thought of the world full of shrimp that Anya had mentioned; she was deathly allergic to the little things. Leaning over, she gave her love a kiss and turned out the light. All she said as the darkness enveloped the lovers and Willow let out a happy cry was, "I reject your reality and substitute my own."


End file.
